Beautiful, depraved

Intimacy. Debauchery. Irreverence.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

"The anxiety of falling in love could only find repose in bed."

It's a quote from One Hundred Years of Solitude. Osho also said: Make love first, ask questions later. These days I am tending to agree with this sentiment more and more. If I am sexually incompatible with someone, we are incompatible, period. I’m not sure if this is because: 1) Sex is the core expression of who we are and at that fundamental level there exists a map, roads I can follow. I can take that as a symbolic reflection of where we can go together outside of the bedchamber. Or 2) Sex is the glue. I find that a lot can be worked out sexually. The tussle as therapy, wordless communication. After a couple of hours of lovemaking, tension is diffused, we are reconnected at some primal, cellular level and we can speak from a higher place. Our lovemaking has swept clear loads of debris that might have taken hours of conversation to get to. A shortcut to the soul.

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